Night had fallen, and the dark-colored Cullinan was gliding through the bustling heart of Los Angeles. Neon lights flickered past, occasionally casting a glow on Frederick’s sharply contoured face. He wore glasses, his gaze unreadable, and his voice cool as he finally spoke. “When the Carter family elders were giving you trouble, you should have told me.”
Referring to the family’s mistreatment of her, the punishment of copying family rules—though Frederick hadn’t spelled it out, Leah understood. At today’s family dinner, he had backed her up, not for her sake, but because she was Mrs. Carter. He was defending his own wife and fulfilling his responsibility as her husband.
It didn’t matter to him whether this woman was Leah or anyone else. Frederick would have acted the same simply because
